


His Remaining Senses

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Consent Issues, Drinking & Talking, Dubious Consent, First Time, Flirting, Frottage, M/M, Misguided, Oral Sex, Somnophilia, Virgin Luke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 10:09:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12318915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: Sure, Han could cut out all this nonsense, take Luke by the arm, and tell him how it was going to be, and he knew Luke would go along. But where was the fun in that? It was more interesting to Han to put it on a platter for Luke and see what he did with the offer – even if that did take more patience.





	His Remaining Senses

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, please don't read this fic if you don't like reading fics with serious consent issues. I've got like 14 other Han/Luke fics that are less weird and fucked up than this one. 
> 
> Whatever path you choose, I wish you a happy read!

Han wasn’t drunk at all, honestly. He’d only had one, and was barely feeling it. But when he stood up, he caught his foot on his chair and stumbled, making himself look like a lightweight. In front of anyone else, he would have laughed it off, then spent the rest of the evening silently dwelling on how he’d embarrassed himself. With Luke, it ended up a little different.

The instant Han seemed to lose his footing, Luke leapt from his chair in a valiant attempt to catch his fall. But there was no fall, so he only ended up clinging to Han’s arm. He continued to cling to it even after it was obvious that Han did not need his support.

Han looked down at Luke, and his breath caught at what he saw clear as day in Luke’s face. The suspicions he’d harbored for the past few months, about how Luke might feel about him, were utterly confirmed at that moment: those wide, adoring eyes were shining with gratitude at his good fortune, an excuse to touch Han.

Luke cleared his throat. “Are you alright?” he asked, still not letting go. Only a few seconds had passed, but it felt like an eternity. Han might have been surprised to find himself in Luke’s eager grasp, thinly veiled as it was by concern, but thinking fast was what he did best. “Guess they’re making ‘em stronger than they used to in this place.” He made a show of straightening himself up, freeing himself from Luke’s rescue. “Good thing, though; ‘bout time I got my money’s worth here. Anyway, thanks, kid.”

Han left their table and approached the bar, where he waited for the bartender’s attention. He glanced back at their table, catching Luke quickly averting his gaze, pretending to be suddenly fascinated by his empty glass. It was adorable. Han had had his suspicions for a while, but he’d avoided getting hung up about it, in case he was misinterpreting Luke’s guileless enthusiasm and charm. And anyway, there just hadn’t been much time to think on it or do anything about it – since joining the Alliance, he’d been spending a lot more time getting shot at than he was used to, which was really saying something.

But one little drink was all it had taken to make Luke careless about his secret infatuation, and something about what Han had seen in his eyes just now told him that this was an urgent matter. It was not what he was expecting to be dealing with tonight, but he could think of far worse ways to spend a rare free evening.

Han got their drinks and brought them back to the table. “Why don’t we move over there,” he said, gesturing with the glass in his hand to a cozy, secluded booth in the corner. “Faces the door. Sitting at this table’s making me nervous.” Luke nodded in agreement, not mentioning that there had been booths available when they’d come in.

Han took a seat right in the center of the circular booth, so that no matter which side he sat on, Luke would have to sidle close to him.

“You’ve been to Calius before, haven’t you?” Han feigned a casual tone, knowing the answer perfectly well.

Luke was looking down at the narrow space between them, the bare half-inch that kept their thighs from touching. “Uh huh,” he said, “I’ve had a couple missions here.”

“You got a girl here?”

This provoked an embarrassed chuckle. Luke shook his head, and a few strands of hair fell into his eyes. “Nah.”

Han cleared his throat. “You got a _guy_ here?”

Luke’s faced flushed so fast, Han had to hold back a laugh. “Ha, uh, well,” Luke stammered.

Han tilted forward a fraction, and said, “…Maybe?”

Luke caught Han’s subtle lean and raised eyebrow, and realized what Han was suggesting. He froze up, wide-eyed, just managing a slight nod, and whispered, “Yeah, maybe.”

That was all. That was all Han was going to do. If Luke wanted more, he’d have to take it himself. Sure, Han could cut out all this nonsense, take Luke by the arm, and tell him how it was going to be, and he knew Luke would go along, would fall right into his bed. But where was the fun in that? It was far more interesting to Han to put it on a platter for Luke and see what he did with the offer – even if that did take more patience.

Han complained, “They turn up the heat in here or what,” rolling up his sleeves and undoing a button at his collar. He casually placed his elbow on the table, practically begging Luke to find an excuse to touch his arm. While they drank, he reminisced about their recent bungled mission, flattered Luke a little about how he’d done well nonetheless, just generally did his best to create an atmosphere of masculine affection. Luke stared down longingly at the exposed skin beyond Han’s pushed-up sleeve, but did nothing.

This was going to be more work than Han had anticipated. Frankly, it ought to have occurred to him that despite Luke’s adoration, there might be a reason why a kid so stupidly brave and impulsive hadn’t jumped him months ago. Since their first meeting, Han had learned that Luke was never intimidated…except when he was. And while Luke couldn’t get his hands on a blaster or his behind into a pilot’s seat fast enough, apparently when it came to a crush, he was hopeless. Soon, they’d finished their drinks again, and Luke wasn’t picking up anything Han was putting down.

And yet, when Han got up to find the ‘fresher, he saw in the mirror over the bar that Luke’s gaze followed him as he went.

Han stopped at the bar on the way back, and asked for two more drinks. Leaning in, he said, “And water ‘em down a little.” Han had a new idea, but it would be a careful balancing act: he couldn’t get too drunk, but he still had to make Luke _think_ he was getting drunk; and he had to get Luke a little loosened up, but not so much that he’d be completely useless. Han returned to the booth with their drinks, and a little more contrived sway in his swagger.

Luke might not have been doing his part to move this situation along, but Han was watching him closely, watching him squirm and blush through their closeness and conversation, noting his hungry eyes and twitching fingers. Now that he was really thinking about this crush Luke had, Han almost felt sorry for him; if the kid had been mooning over him like this for all this time, he reasoned, that probably meant he wasn’t getting laid elsewhere. What a waste of one’s precious youth and vigor, pining for a scoundrel like him, when he could be sampling that endless parade of young, energetic bodies collectively called the Rebel Alliance.

Han, for his part, wasn’t normally one for initiating youngsters, but Luke was…he was something else. Han wouldn’t have given it a second thought, that day at Mos Eisley, but since then, Luke had shot straight, flown like a demon, and inspired everyone around him to do better – including Han. The kid was always excited about something, and if you were around him long enough, you started to remember that some things were still worth getting excited about. And Luke was always fascinated by something, wanting to learn all about it as quickly as possible. It was kind of hard not to feel a little something for him – to want to satisfy some portion of his ravenous curiosity.

Han set down his newly-empty glass and sighed, “You wanna get out of here?” He hauled himself out of the booth, cocking an eyebrow at Luke, who hesitated. It was then that Han was certain that he’d been on the right track:  Luke tried to remain hunched over even as he stood up. Han remembered that body language from when he was that age; there was no way the kid didn’t have a hard-on. But Han wasn’t worried for him. It was dark in the bar, and Calius’ frigid night air would put at least a temporary fix on the situation as soon as they were out on the street.

 “You’ve worn me out, kid,” Han said as they headed for the door. “I’m looking forward to seeing my bunk.”

“Me too,” Luke said, then caught himself. “I mean, uh, to seeing _my_ bunk, that is, I mean, if...”

Han said nothing, just favored him with a sly grin.

Han had neglected to arrange for a hotel while they were in Calius, preferring to stay with his ship. They made their way back to the spaceport, where the Falcon sat, safe and sound. He and Luke climbed up the cargo ramp. Luke’s quarters were just past Han’s, and he seemed ready to pass by as Han stopped in front of his own door. But Han blocked Luke’s path, pressing the button to open the door and making it clear that he expected Luke to go in.

Luke stood in the middle of the cramped room, unsure what to do with himself, while Han collapsed into his bunk, managing to pull his boots off before flopping onto the mattress.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep!” Luke pleaded. “I mean…unless you did want me to…go?”

Han let his head loll to one side, so that Luke couldn’t see his smile of satisfaction. “I’m not gonna sleep,” he slurred. “I’m just resting my eyes.” He slowed his breathing, and limb by limb, relaxed his body, until he was the picture of inebriated unconsciousness.

It took every ounce of self-control to remain still and calm for the next few minutes. Luke sat down at his side, whispering, “Han? Han, are you awake?” Then he waited in silence, presumably gazing at Han’s unresponsive body. Then slowly, lightly, Luke began to run his fingers over Han’s chest, lingering particularly over the loose collar of his shirt. Han stayed limp and impassive under Luke’s hand, but inside he was elated. Now, at last, the kid had some guts.

As Han remained “asleep,” Luke got bolder. He felt up and down Han’s chest and belly with his palm, then, after a pause, pulled at the hem of his shirt until it came free and could be pushed up. Han feared the game would be given away if Luke tickled him, but Luke’s reverent touches stayed firm and slow. Then Han felt a tentative tug on his belt.

Luke had to fiddle with it before he figured out how to release the buckle, but by the time he had, he’d lost all hesitation; after all, Han hadn’t woken up by now, under all that frustrated fidgeting. He unbuttoned Han’s trousers, pushing aside the fabric so he could get inside it with both hands and feel Han’s cock. Against all reason, but lucky for Han’s ruse, it was still soft. Luke played with it, tugging it to get it hard. He squeezed the tip, until a bead of pre-come appeared at the slit, and he pushed it around with his fingertip, wetting the head a little.

Han felt Luke’s weight shift on the mattress, and he just about jumped out of his skin when he felt what was unmistakable a warm, tentative lick. Then another, then the licks turned to kisses, and soon his cock was in Luke’s mouth. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from squirming and crying out at the delicious warmth of it, but after a moment, he thought it safe to utter a soft murmur. Luke froze when he heard it, but when no further sound or movement was forthcoming, he continued, seemingly encouraged.

It felt so good to get hard inside the kid’s eager mouth, his cock thickening with each solid suckle. Luke wasn’t doing any tricks or taking any orders – he was just seeing what it felt like to have a cock in his mouth – and it felt incredible. The sloppy noises of wet suction made Han’s toes curl, and he hoped Luke didn’t catch sight of it. Han wished he could turn his head and open his eyes, so that he could watch what Luke was doing, but far more than that, he wanted to see how far Luke would go if he didn’t “wake up.” He’d spent the whole evening getting Luke worked up and licentious, and he had succeeded astoundingly: he was getting exactly what he wanted, the only way he could get it. He dared not move, lest he upset the momentum, though shocks of pleasure snaked up his thighs and made him want to thrust and groan, to show Luke what a good job he was doing.

Just as Han thought he couldn’t stand another moment before putting his load down Luke’s throat, Luke stopped. His weight shifted again, and Han had only a moment of agonizing anticipation before Luke swung his leg over Han’s thighs and straddled him.

As he listened to the rustling of fabric and the unclasping of Luke’s belt, Han wondered with increasing agony whether there was any way he might open his eyes just a tiny bit, so he could catch a glimpse of what was happening. He wanted to see Luke’s cock, wanted to see how big it was, what angle it stood at. But when he’d decided he’d do things this way, he’d sacrificed the privilege of looking. A shame.

His remaining senses were a fair consolation, though; Luke’s sigh of relief as he freed his erection was nearly as delectable as the first hot pressure of him sliding it against Han’s own straining cock. Han let a soft little moan escape as Luke pressed hard against him and grunted, rubbing their cocks together.  He could easily imagine Luke’s twitching hips, the glow on his skin as he began to perspire with his efforts. He could picture Luke engorged and desperate, his mouth slack as he gratified himself against Han’s body, flat belly and hard thighs flexing. Luke might have been selfishly taking his pleasure, but also, little did he know, he was servicing Han quite satisfactorily at the same time.  

As his rhythm became more frantic, Luke hurriedly pushed Han’s shirt up, bunching it beneath his armpits. He leaned forward, bracing himself with his arms on either side of Han’s chest, his face now closer than ever to Han’s, and the tension at last became too great. Luke groaned deeply, and his hips stuttered to a halt. A moment later, Han felt a splash of warm wetness on his belly. He breathed deeply as his own orgasm overtook him, and he struggled mightily not to grab Luke’s hips or call his name.

Luke wiped up the evidence of what he’d done with his sleeve, then, with a newfound delicacy, tugged Han’s shirt down and tucked his softening cock back into his trousers. He lingered a bit longer before creeping toward the door, leaving a satisfied and still very alert Han splayed in the bunk. Another loss: the circumstances of this seduction meant there would be no post-coital tenderness.

But no; that was too much to sacrifice. Han was done pretending. He rolled onto his side and grunted, which stopped Luke in the open doorway.

“Hey, kid. Sorry I fell asleep on you there,” Han said. “You’re not leaving, are you? Come over here.” He waved Luke over to him.

Luke shuffled sheepishly back to Han’s bunk, and Han gestured to him to kneel down, so they were face to face. “Listen, I wanna tell you something,” Han said. He gave Luke a sleepy smile. “I just had the most wonderful dream.”

**Author's Note:**

> berlynn-wohl.tumblr for more of this type of nonsense


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